


Of Flowers and Delivers

by warmestbloggerever



Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-28
Updated: 2015-04-28
Packaged: 2018-03-26 03:19:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3835027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/warmestbloggerever/pseuds/warmestbloggerever
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kristoff delivers flowers, and he enjoys his job. But he has to make a decision when he finds our a customer is going out with two ladies at the same time, and it doesn’t help that one of them is so... Incredibly happy and kind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Flowers and Delivers

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, everyone! I had so much fun writing this, and I truly hope you enjoy reading it! Have an excellent week, you all!
> 
> It's rated Teen simply because of some words that might offend or shock younger readers.

Kristoff just worked in the flower shop because of the money. He needed it, and that was the only place near campus that would accept a never-employed before college student such as him. He had to admit it was a pretty cool job. There wasn't a lot of people who got sad in seeing a bunch of flowers delivered to them.

But there were the hard and stressful cases, like Mr. Westergaard's. A tall dude, about his age, perhaps, talking on his phone with someone who seemed to be close to him. Under other circumstances, Kristoff wouldn't pay the minimal amount of attention to other people's conversation, but  _this_...  _apparent_  gentleman asked for two bouquets. For two different addresses. And, as a perfect bum, payed a little more than necessary to assure that Kristoff would deliver the flowers with careful silence.

"...It's so fun, man. Like, Anna is so easy to fool, she believes anything I tell her. 'I love you.' 'Really?' 'Yeah, totally.' Ha ha, as if." Hans told the person on the other side of the line and Kristoff had to make a real effort not to glare at the redhead bastard in front of him. He couldn't grasp the concept of betrayal—why would you stay with someone if you wanted to be with another person? Even with you cared about who you were with right now, it was better to break their heart than their heart  _and_  their trust and respect.

But it was clear to him that this customer did not care about the two women he was going out with. For him, they were just a fun game to spend his time with. That disgusted Kristoff more than he would ever be able to put into words.

He dreaded the ride to Ms. Andersen's house. The card on her bouquet, which was romantic, but kind of stupid, was addressed to Anna. He could only imagine how happy this lady would be because of a man who didn't deserve her.

Because of his inner conflict—to tell or not to tell, that is the question—, full six minutes passed by before he could approach the two-stories blue house. While he waited for someone to answer the door, he hoped it was Anna's father or mother. He hoped they forbid her to ever see him again.

But for Kristoff's surprise, it was a bouncy, joyful young woman who opened the door. She smiled at him—a smile full of dimples—and her eyes duplicated in size and in glint when she saw the flowers.

"Elsa!" She yelled, making Kristoff quite confused until a blonde, thin woman came into sight, running and alert, eyes wide. "Look at these, look at these, oh, my God!" The redhead—Anna, clearly—told the blonde, bouncing on her feet and unable to control her smile in the least.

 _God_ , it was worse than he'd thought. Why,  _why_  did nice people like this girl in front of him met people like Hans?

"THERE IS A CARD!" She yelled again, and did a small celebratory dance in the balcony. Elsa, however, only crossed her arms and rolled her eyes a little, and a small crease appeared on her forehead, and Kristoff empathized with her immediately.

"' _Anna_ '," She read. "' _Roses are red, violets are blue. No matter how beautiful this poem is, it's not as beautiful as you_.' Ownnn!" Anna exclaimed. The blissfulness and love in her face were so poignant that Kristoff felt like crying.  _Now_  he was going to have to do something.

"Huh, excuse me, miss..." Anna looked up at him, still smiling— _did she ever stop doing so?_ , he wondered. "May I, hm, go in for a glass of water, please? If it's not a problem, of course..."

"Sure, come in!" Anna grabbed his hand, which almost made him jump in surprise, and lead him towards the house, although he didn't really need the orientation. "The kitchen is right here!" She sang and walked ahead towards a white door in the right side of the big living room they'd stepped into. He heard a door slamming shut and looked back. The other woman, Elsa, had closed the door and followed them, staring at the floor, seeming to be deep in thought and not pleased at all. Kristoff wasn't sure how he felt about it, but he did hope it was concern for Anna, and not jealousy, that made that woman pissed. Anna seemed to be the person who needed positive people around her.

"Oh, my God, I have flowers! Ah, serve yourself, sir!" She gestured to a bunch of recently washed cups that were over the sink. Then she started opening drawers, looking for something. "What do you put these into? Like, my mom, and Elsa here, they use  _everything_  in the kitchen, and these are too big for a cup. Do you think I should separate them in groups and put each one into a cup?... Do you think they can stay in a bowl of pop corn?" She rambled to Kristoff, but he reckoned they were all rhetoric questions, so he stayed silent while helping himself with cold water.

Elsa stood in the doorway, now eyeing him with an eyebrow raised. Both women seemed to be in the same age range, so Kristoff concluded they were sisters. What he couldn't understand, though, was how one of them turned out to be bouncy, happy, and loud, and the other one, distant, calculating, and... Really, really,  _really_  intimidating. For a moment, he entertained himself with the mental image of Elsa confronting Hans. The bastard would probably shit his pants.

_...That's not such a bad idea._

He cleared his throat. "Do I know you?" He asked Elsa, which made Anna stop talking to herself and look at them—what in the world the girl was doing filling a shining pan with water, Kristoff preferred not to know.

Elsa's skepticism became more tangible and he detected a certain tone of threat in her posture. But when he tilted his head, made a pleading face and eyed Anna for one second, the blonde's  _I hate everything_  behavior vanished. She narrowed her eyes once more in a silent "I  _will_  cut your balls if you try anything funny" before fake-smiling and relaxing her body.

"Right, from high school! I knew I remembered you from somewhere..."

"Kristoff." He said through gritted teeth, now also fake-smiling.

"Kristopher. Right. I knew." Elsa said, then grabbed the sleeve of his sweater. "Let's talk, I haven't seen you in forever."

"Yeah, I know..." Kristoff added while being dragged through the house by the woman. As soon as they were in a private place, door closed, Elsa's expression became threatening once again and she crossed her arms.

"What do you want?" She asked coldly, chin raised. Kristoff gulped, but at the thought of Anna's constant joy and innocence, he stood firm in his decision and put his hands on his waist, making Elsa raise both eyebrows in skepticism, and in a silent dare.

 _Okay._ Not _a good idea to try to impose authority. She is in command. Right_. He slowly lowered his arms.

"This Hans... Is a not a good man, miss. He bought two bouquets, one for your sister and one for another woman, and I overheard... I know it's not polite, but you see, he talked to someone on the phone about the way he was fooling two women. And he mentioned Anna." He said with distaste and slight disgust. Elsa seemed to consider this for a moment, then she uncrossed her arms and sighed.

"What did he say?" Her voice was clearly tired, so he just complied.

"He said that it was really easy to fool her, Miss Andersen." He said sadly. Elsa closed her eyes and sighed again. After what seemed to be a really long time, she opened them again and looked at him, but not with suspicion or indecision, but with something akin to gratitude.

"Thank you, Kristopher. It really means a lot to me that you told me this. Hans does not... Have a good relationship history, actually. I met him. He is a pig. A disgusting one." She murmured, staring at her feet, quite lost in her memories. Elsa looked up at him again. "Again, thank you."

"It was nothing, miss. It was just my job."

"No, it wasn't." Elsa said in an ending tone, not leaving space for discussion, so Kristoff just smiled and didn't say anything.

"Oh, and it's  _Kristoff_." He corrected her.

"Oh. Sorry."

They left the room they were in. Kristoff finally felt his shoulders relaxing after all that tension, although Elsa was now the stressed one. But he now believed that he had done the right thing.

He just lamented he wouldn't get to see Hans shitting his pants when Elsa was eye-to-eye to him.

* * *

He thought he would never see those two again. He had honestly forgotten about the whole drama—the other woman had threw herself on the floor and cried for fifteen minutes before her reaction changed to angry cursing and threats at Hans; that dude was so screwed, and Kristoff was not even sorry.

But then, on Saturday, exactly a week later, he came to the flower shop from a deliver and found Anna there, admiring the gardenias.

"Oh, hi there! It's you I wanted to talk to! Kristoff, right? Elsa told me it wasn't  _Kristopher_ , which is... Different. A good different, of course. I even wrote it down so I wouldn't forget. On my hand, see?" She showed him her palm, which had "KRISTOFF" written in huge, messy, blue calligraphy.

"I see..." He said, nodding slowly. "So, you wanted... To see  _me_?"

"Right, I did! I just wanted to thank you for, you know, telling me about The Douchebag." She said solemnly, with a sour expression on her face.

"It was nothing. I know it's out of my job specifications and it is quite unprofessional, but Mr. Westergaard—"

"No, son, we don't pronounce his name! It's offensive." She explained.

"Oh, right. Huh, I suppose... The Douchebag got what he deserved?"

"Oh, sure!" She grinned widely again, for Kristoff's amuse. "You know, I've always wanted to punch someone in the face, and I finally had my chance!"

_...What?_

"Elsa did nothing?" He wondered in a low voice. It wasn't his intention for her to hear, but she did.

"Nope. She would never take that chance from me. So, I was thinking, when does your shift end? You should have a coffee with us! Elsa is right across the street, in that cute book shop over there, and they have a coffee shop inside, which is brilliant, in my opinion, because you bring two different types of heaven together and create a master paradise in one place or something." Clearly, this girl had acquired the ability of not needing to breathe or  _to pause_ in between sentences.

"Huh..."

"It's almost your obligation, really." She raised her chin, reminding him of Elsa, and he realized Anna could also be very persuasive and intimidating in a completely different way than her sister. Strangely, he  _did_  feel compelled to go out and have coffee with them. Although it wasn't remotely the main reason, he didn't want to see this girl sad, or trying to  _convince_  him to have the goddamn coffee. He suspected she wasn't the giving up type, and he also imagined that she loved to make friends.

"Sure. I'll be free after another deliver, so maybe, hm, half an hour." He concluded, nodding awkwardly, his hands in his pockets.

"Perfect!" Anna exclaimed, clapping her hands once. "See you then, then." She chuckled and grabbed his hand, dragging him through the flower shop.  _What was it with these sisters and dragging around? Holy Jesus_.

"But before you go, help me choose some flowers for my house. You've been there, so you know it needs much more color. And I've always wanted to buy flowers, but I never did." She pouted for one second, then grinned. "I was thinking blue ones, because Elsa loves blue."

"Actually... What do you think of sunflowers?"  _Yes, sunflowers would be perfect!_  Anna seemed in doubt, though. "Sunflowers were made for you. They are always turned...  _focused_  on the sun the same way you do with, huh, happiness, you know." He felt his cheeks getting hot under her scrutinizing gaze. When she was not smiling, her blue eyes seemed wide and clear; concentrated, he realized.

Then she smiled. "That would be perfect, thanks!"

He prepared a bouquet for her carefully. If any of his colleagues found it weird that he was not just delivering, as he was supposed to do, they didn't comment anything, for his relief. Anna paid for the flowers—leaving him a fat tip, even under his protests—and left the flower shop to meet her sister, not before saying, "Don't forget, I'll be at that book and coffee thing!"

"I won't forget—"

"Let me give you my number, in case, you know, you get lost or anything. Might happen! Who knows?" She babbled while writing her number down in the back of a flower shop card she got on the counter. Kristoff didn't say that he  _probably_  wouldn't get lost because, huh, _the book shop was right in front of where he worked._

He had the funny feeling that that wasn't the real reason why Anna was giving him her phone number. He hadn't dated many times before, but he wasn't oblivious, and he genuinely liked this woman and felt joyous when she handed him the card, a smile on her face, as usual.

"Can't wait!" She whispered before storming out of the store.

 _Me neither_ , he mentally replied, and walked towards the delivery car as quickly as he could. He also wanted this shift to end as soon as possible.


End file.
